


with shortness of breath, you explained the infinite

by nxpenthe



Category: LOONA (Korea Band)
Genre: Angst, Astronauts, Established Relationship, F/F, heavily hyunjin centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-31
Updated: 2019-05-31
Packaged: 2020-03-31 00:02:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19038262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nxpenthe/pseuds/nxpenthe
Summary: to create something amazing means to put your entirety into it.in which hyunjin wants to be remembered but loses everything in the process.





	with shortness of breath, you explained the infinite

**Author's Note:**

> thank u @gaywrongs for catching the errors ;; <3 
> 
> title taken from "saturn" by sleeping at last.   
> prompt inspired by "satellite" by loona, ernest hemmingway, pablo picasso, and free solo (the documentary)

**Project Number 1** :  
  
  
Steel reinforcements ripped off due to wind pressure, must be readjusted.

_ Failure _ .

  
\--

  
Hyunjin awakens to the dark side of the moon. From what she can see from the plastic wrapped window of her claimed bedroom, her planet is in orbit opposite of this solar system's sun, far from where the tendrils of light could reach. It would be another twenty rounds before she would be met with warmth equivalent to the hottest of Seoul’s summers. She misses waking up to sweat instead of cold fingers.

  
She stays lying down, letting the rest of her body awaken in silence. The occasional shutter of the rafts punctuates the otherwise quiet base. Hyunjin sits vigil regardless, in hopes of hearing something – anything.

  
Hunger eventually beckons her to the kitchen in Unit Three. The walk is short, the rhythm of thrumming machinery behind the closed door of Unit Five playing a soft melody of electronic clicks as she makes her way to the food storage. Cans and dried foods line the storage shelves, made visible by the single fluorescent beam inlaid on the ceiling. Thankfully it’s powered by stocked solar energy which made for longer usage – Hyunjin had made sure to use the previous light cycle to her advantage. After having forgotten her first dark cycle, she had made sure to never make the mistake again.

  
Hyunjin doesn’t particularly like to think about that time.

  
Cans and dried food pouches line the storage shelves, most untouched, some half salvaged with bits of space still stuck to shining cellophane. Hyunjin grabs one at random, the emptiness of her stomach propelling the action more so than the enjoyment of eating.

  
With a couple of spices and a gallon of ketchup and other condiments, the arid taste could be forgotten, but she had run out of pepper long ago, and the salt supplies ran dangerously low. Luckily, astronaut food was packed with the essential vitamins and minerals, but they did little to help the taste.

  
Today’s breakfast, she realizes after pouring in hot water, is curry.

  
Heejin’s favorite.

  
\--

**  
Project Number 2** :

  
Engine failure. Crash imminent.

Stratosphere reached.

_ Failure _ .

  
\--

  
She starts her days the same way.

  
Wake up and listen for any sort of life. After confirming that there indeed was nothing alive on the base bar herself, Hyunjin gets up and walks to the kitchen to eat breakfast. Exercise is important too, so she ends up running for an hour, incorporating a variety of random strength training sets just to keep her moving. Then, she showers and gets dressed.

  
Some days she’ll go out and salvage from the other bases that had unfortunately been hit in the meteor showers that took out her other companions. One of the men, a survivor, had taken his own life after being plagued with guilt. Another, after realizing their means of communication with Earth – their way back home – had been severed, had put on a space suit and never returned.

  
Hyunjin had done her best to give them a proper burial.

  
There’s still usable material that could be transformed into a proper rocket; she hadn’t studied for years to become an engineer for it not to be put to good use. Coding, on the other hand, proved to be a little difficult but hours of being alone had become a good motivator to pour over what information was available in the frayed manuals and to test her own functions on dummy rockets and simulators.

  
Eventually, she had figured out the intricacies of both.

  
(Heejin always called her the smarter half.)

  
Rockets are built by governments with lots of money and material and drive.

  
What Hyunjin lacked in the first two, she made up with an insurmountable stubbornness.

  
She is going home.

  
Or she will die trying.

  
\--

**  
Project Number 3:**

  
Cooling system failed. Rocket overheated, causing damage.

_ Failure _ .

  
\--

_  
“Aren’t you scared?” _

  
Heejin’s head lay on her shoulder as they gazed up at the moon. Two telescopes sat near them, a larger one balanced on a tripod set trained to Jupiter, and a handheld one that Hyunjin currently had pressed against her eyes.

_  
“Scared of what?” _

  
Venus was especially bright then, its red glow hauntingly beautiful.

_  
“Of getting lost out there. It’s so… big.” _

  
Hyunjin shrugs. She was aware of the risks of being set out on a mission – humanity had passed the point of Mars and the Moon and was now reaching for greater extents. Their newest mission, a joint world project that only the best and brightest were chosen for, involved traveling through the universe to their neighboring one in search of life – a journey estimated to possibly take years even with their improved technology.

  
Kim Hyunjin had been chosen as one of the lucky few.

_  
“It’s not that scary if you know your way around the constellations. The stars are a better map than your any GPS.” _

  
Heejin had remained unconvinced. Her hand reached over, lowering the telescope from Hyunjin’s eyes so she could lace their fingers together. Heejin’s hand was so small in her own – Hyunjin always loved how they fit perfectly in her palm, how she could easily protect them from the cold weather that nipped at the tip of their noses.

_  
“Can you point out the constellations again? I can only make out Orion and the Big and Little Dipper.” Heejin mumbled into her shoulder, wide eyes staring at the expanse of the twinkling lights above. _

_  
“Yeah. Not a problem.” _

  
Hyunjin laid her head on top of Heejin’s as they journeyed through the stars.

  
\--

**  
Project Number 4** :

  
Coding error. Incorrect launch time – need to reset.

_ Failure _ .

\--

  
Before the signal tower had been torn apart to pieces of scrap metal, Hyunjin and the others would receive a weekly package of video messages. They were short videos, a maximum of ten minutes, with blurred quality that confused the line of person and background more often than not. But they were the most welcomed bundle of data, loving viewed by the recipient until the screen flickered black.

  
Every week, Hyunjin had received two videos: one from her father, another from Heejin.

  
Though she couldn’t respond with her own videos, a typed message could be sent back as long as it remained within one hundred characters.

  
Hyunjin wrote back every week.

  
Now receiving and sending was no longer a possibility; she had tried to repair the tower as best as possible, but the mangled set of wires, burnt to a crisp from the numerous explosions that had taken place, had made it unsalvageable. It was a hard blow to the survivors, but one of the coders had managed to extract the old data and save it onto the main hard drive of the computers so all the bases could have access.

  
By some miracle, one last video had come through almost a month later.

  
The same man who managed to pull the video killed himself soon after.

  
Nightfall, or what she considers night in terms of this planet’s time, is her favorite because that’s when her body is aching and it forces her to sit and rest, relaxing to the sound of Heejin’s voice on screen. She plays a different clip every day, listening to the same stories and laughing at the exact same punchlines, but it brings her solace in an otherwise wordless routine.

  
She has exactly 120 videos of Heejin and her father saved, meaning around two half years, and she’s listened to them all so many times she’s lost track.

  
The last video remains untouched.

  
\--

**  
Project Number 10** :

  
Rocket launched. A successful attempt if it had detached properly.

_ Failure _ .

  
\--

_  
“Why do you want to be an astronaut?” _

  
Having been childhood friends, Heejin was allowed in her house as though she lived there. Her father adored Heejin as though she was his own, and once he had learned of their established relationship in high school (Hyunjin had given a very clumsy confession, but Heejin had cherished it regardless) had been beyond ecstatic. 

  
That night was like any other night. Heejin had welcomed herself in after dark, claiming she needed Hyunjin to sleep after a particularly stressful day. Hyunjin had welcomed her with open arms, her bed already rearranged to fit Heejin.

_  
“It's been my dream for a long time. My mom was an astronaut.” _

  
She was eight when her mother died on a trip, lost in the expanse of space. Maybe she’s still out there, but after having listened to the radioed explosion, she and her father decided a simple funeral was best for moving on.

  
Heejin had attended, too. She cried enough for both her and her father, both too numb to have properly grieved.

  
Heejin had hummed her response. Hyunjin wishes she could have seen what sort of expression Heejin had then, but it’s too late to think about those sort of things. Besides, Hyunjin liked being the big spoon, her larger self curled protectively over Heejin’s smaller body.

_  
“Why do you want to be a singer?” _ She had countered despite knowing the answer.

_  
“I love music. I love to sing, and I love to play guitar. I don’t know what else I would do.” _

  
Hyunjin let her lips graze over Heejin’s ear.  _ “It’s the same for me. I don’t know what else I would do besides this.” _

_  
“No. It’s not.” _

  
Heejin had turned around then, frustration clear in her beautiful eyes. Hyunjin hadn’t know how to respond.

_  
“You’re afraid.” _

_  
“I’m not.” _

  
Sure, space was enormous and nothing could ever properly be planned or expected, but Hyunjin was never scared to leave Earth. It was always the adrenaline of thrill then fear that coursed through her veins whenever the practice rockets launched them to the moon, her large eyes reflecting the starry wonder of the worlds unknown.

_  
“I’m not scared of space, Heejin –“ _

_  
“That’s not what I mean.” _

_  
“Then what am I afraid of?” _ Hyunjin wished that Heejin would let her close the gap between them, but she was adamant, too worked up to allow her to do much else then caress her cheek.

_  
“You’re afraid you’re going to be forgotten by the world, that’s why you’re so stubborn about leaving it.” _ Leaving me.

  
They both hear the unspoken words. Tears glossed Heejin’s eyes then. (Hyunjin realizes she makes Heejin cry a lot.)

  
The rest of the night was spent in contemplative silence.

  
\--

**  
Project Number 12** :

  
Automatic system failure. A bug in the code leading to incorrect angle turn.

_ Failure _ .

  
\--

  
It’s her birthday today.

  
She’s finished her tasks, her newest rocket a bust due to an incorrect coding error. Normally, Hyunjin would be obdurate on finding the error, but today is her birthday so she allows herself to relax and indulge in one of Heejin’s longest videos.

  
The screen crackles to life: Heejin is sitting in the middle with her father and a couple of their good friends gathered around the camera. A birthday cake – her favorite one from the local bakery that sells the most delicious bread on Earth – is placed in the middle with twenty-four candles stuck around the edges. Hyunjin’s watched this particular video a number of times already, but Heejin can’t send her another birthday one so she’s stuck rewatching her previous celebration.

  
Heejin has her guitar and strums a few practice chords. She starts singing first then is quickly joined by others as they harmonize together. 

_  
“Happy birthday, dear Hyunjin, happy birthday to you.” _

  
Hyunjin claps along to the video before she can stop herself, smiling as chaos soon erupts. Yeojin, the little troublemaker she is, manages to get whipped cream on Heejin’s face and the camera, promising that next year it would be Hyunjin’s face she smears. Screams erupt from off camera as Jiwoo and her loud voice dominate the audio for a moment, though smaller squeals of protest from Yerim and Vivi hit her ears as the little devil goes around painting everyone’s face with her birthday cake. Heejin, despite the chaos, still remains in the center of the screen, wiping the cream off with her sleeve.

_  
“They’re still as crazy as ever _ ,” Heejin complains softly, though it’s said with a smile.  _ “Happy birthday again, Hyunjin. I hope you have cake up there, wherever you are. I’ll buy you two cakes next year since you didn’t get to eat this one with us.” _

  
Hyunjin nods, replying with a quick “You better.”

_  
“Video times ending, everyone! Say goodbye!” _

  
A chorus of “ _ happy birthday _ ” and “ _ be safe _ ” chime from the camera. One loud “ _ get back home soon, loser _ ” is yelled from the back, though it’s quickly disrupted by Haseul’s “ _ Be nice, Yeojin! _ ”

  
Hyunjin smiles even wider, her cheeks hurting. “Yeah. I’ll be back soon.”

  
Heejin is the last person on screen again. She leans in close so her face fills the entire monitor. Hyunjin wants to poke at the blown-up mole under Heejin’s eye.

_  
“I love you. Happy twenty-fourth birthday, Hyunjin. Come home soon.” _

  
Today is Hyunjin’s birthday.

  
Today, Hyunjin turned twenty-seven.

  
\--

**  
Project Number 13** :

_ Failure _ .

**  
Project Number 14** :

_ Failure _ .

**  
Project Number 15** :

_ Failure _ .

**  
Project Number 16** :

_ Failure _ .

  
\--

  
They had been warned before their mission that time is relative; every good astronaut knows that time flows different depending on space and dimension, and that even if Hyunjin was aging only a day on this planet, Earth could be moving at triple the speed.

  
Maybe instead of twenty-seven, she may already be fifty.

  
She doesn’t like to think about that because that also means having to reconcile the possible death of her father – his health had never been the best after the death of his mother – and the likelihood that Heejin had given up on her.

  
Time is relative, and Hyunjin no longer knows where she stands in that relativity.

  
Hyunjin scraps together the copper wires, careful to put covers on to prevent the exposed ends from touching the wrong component and blowing everything up.

  
She places the wires to the side. Eyes stinging from exertion, she pulls off her gloves, frowning at the way her hands shake.

  
The base is darkening once again. The planet had finished another light cycle and was quickly speeding to another dark cycle.

  
Giving up on her task for the day, she stands and stretches, working out the knots in her shoulder.

  
\--

**  
Project Number 20** :

  
Explosion. It exploded.

_ Failure _ .

  
\--

  
  
Another base is destroyed in her failure.

  
Hyunjin now sports a deep cut running from her forehead to jaw, and a pounding concussion.

  
Everything hurts.

  
This sets her back months in planning – materials must be salvaged again, and her physical health too.

  
Even the hum of machines stop in her third day curled up in bed; she hasn’t been able to get up without feeling dizzy, and the batteries that she keeps solar power stored in is stashed away on the opposite end of the base. For the second time, Hyunjin’s plunged into darkness.

  
\--

_  
“What will you do if I don’t come back?” _

_  
“I don’t know.” _

  
Heejin had stopped playing on her phone to look at her. Fear is evident in her eyes, as is discomfort and a deep sadness. Hyunjin hated – hates – how she had caused that to form in Heejin’s eyes, but it doesn’t stop her. Not when she’s when she’s this close to fulfilling her dream.

_  
“Would you be able to see someone new?” _

_  
“Hyunjin. Stop.” _

_  
“I just need to know you’ll be okay with me.” _

_  
“Hyunjin, please.” _ Heejin looked ready to cry. Hyunjin pressed on regardless. It was cruel, but it was also necessary. She  _ needed  _ to know.

_  
“Heejin, I need you to tell me.” _

_  
“What if I say no? Would you reconsider?” _

_  
“No.” _

_  
“Then what’s the point.” _ Heejin stood, gathering her things. Hyunjin simply watched as tears welled in her eyes and fell, leaving a trail of shimmering galaxies on her cheeks. They were beautiful.  _ “I’m leaving.” _

_  
“Okay.” _

_  
“You’re a real dick sometimes, Hyunjin.” _

_  
“I know.” _

  
\--

  
Hyunjin wakes up with a groan.

  
It’s still dark.

  
Her lips are dry, throat parched.

  
Something salty touches her tongue – her eyes are watering in spite of dehydration.

  
She wets her lips, whimpering.

  
God, she’s so fucking lonely.

  
\--

_  
“Hi, honey.” _

  
Hyunjin’s father takes the screen. He’s a youthful looking man, bright, handsome. 

  
He was also an engineer, forced to retire early due to failing health. 

_  
“How’s it up in space? Isn’t it beautiful? Your mother used to tell us the craziest stories, I can’t wait for you to tell us about how you saw a supernova, or what a black hole looks like from up close.” _

  
Hyunjin has seen many supernovas in the distance. They’re like the auroras of Earth, colorful and bright, lasting only seconds. She wonders if her mother got sucked into a black hole, they were dangerous after all. It would explain the loss of contact and the explosion. (She also wonders just for a brief moment if her mother is still out there, fighting for her survival, listening to the audio tapes that she and her father had sent daily.)  


  
Her father gets thinner ever video. Cheekbones press against his features, as though the skin around was forcibly stretched tight. Hyunjin suppresses the urge to cry. 

_  
“We miss you lots. Heejin comes visiting every day to make sure I haven’t kicked the bucket. She’s a sweet girl, you won’t ever find another like her.” _

  
She nods a response, throat constricted. 

  
Her father smiles sadly at the screen.  _ “We miss you. I miss you, Hyunjin. Come home soon.” _

  
\--

**  
Project Number 21** :

  
Promising. Running out of wire soon.

_ Failure. _

  
\--

**  
Project Number 23** :

  
Almost.

__ Failure?  
  


\--

**  
Project Number 25** :

Next one is the last one.

  
\--

  
Hyunjin runs out of supplies.

  
Rocket 26 is the last one she’s able to make. She doesn’t know if it’ll work, but the previous rockets have been her best attempts yet. They reach their goal, and if she planned this correctly, this one should take her home – or at least close enough to float in the general area of Earth so that they could see her and take her back.

  
Her head still aches sometimes, but she’s gotten better. Loud noises make the pounding worse, but she grits her teeth and works through it.

  
She goes through another dark cycle before she’s finished, but at long last, she’s done.

  
Everything is as perfect as can be – and even if it’s not, there’s nothing more Hyunjin can do.

  
\--

  
She takes one day to walk around the base a final time.

  
Putting one hand to the wall, she slides her way around the entire base without taking her fingers off once. It takes her probably a couple of hours, but she’s able to say thank you and goodbye to everything that’s kept her alive for now – of everything she’s leaving behind.

  
Hyunjin takes out one of the small knives that had dulled from years of use and carves the name of her crew onto the steel below her feet.

  
\--

  
The last unwatched video remains as her final barrier – Hyunjin isn’t known for being sentimental, but years of being alone seemed to have worn her down enough to allow herself this one moment of complete weakness. She tenses as she types out the password, mouse hovering over the last clip, still marked with a blue “unwatched” status.

  
Hyunjin hesitates. Then, it hits her all at once.

  
This is her last chance.

  
This is her last rocket.

  
\--

  
The video crackles to life, static flying over the screen before the grey turns to colors and Heejin materializes in front of her.

  
Hyunjin almost breaks from the unfamiliarity of the video, her heart hammering in her chest.

_  
“Hi, Hyunjin.” _ Heejin’s eyes are red, swollen. She looks gaunt, as though she hadn’t slept in days. Hyunjin frowns, reaching forward to touch the dark circles that reach halfway down her cheeks.  _ “We just got told this was the last video we could send to you guys – I mean, there’s no point since you’re most likely… gone, but just in case, you know?” _

  
The meteor showers. The explosion – they must have been told of what happened, of how the crew was no longer able to get home the way it was planned.

_  
“I don’t even know what I’m supposed to say – I like, I really… should have expected this, since you always do stupid reckless things, but for them to say you’re not coming back...” _

  
Hyunjin feels her chest tighten, the back of her throat burning.

  
Heejin sniffs on screen, fingers quick to sweep stray tears.  _ “Jeez, I’ve been crying for days already. I don’t even know how I have tears left. The others are doing okay. They cried a lot too, especially Yeojin. We’re having a funeral ceremony for you and everyone else – I don’t know if I can last the entire time, but I’ll do my best. They asked me and your dad to read a letter about you, you know, a eulogy sort of thing and I just… I couldn’t say yes. I’m sorry, can you forgive me?” _

  
Fingers grope at the screen, splayed against the electric warmth, “I forgive you, Heejin.” Hyunjin hears her voice break, desperation clear as she whispers to no one. “I’m still alive, I – I forgive you. Heejin, don’t cry.”

  
The video continues on, unforgiving. 

_  
“You always said you were afraid of being forgotten. I haven’t forgotten you, not yet, Hyunjin, but I’m afraid one day I will. I don’t think I could, but what  _ if _.” _

  
Heejin sniffs again. She takes a moment to calm down, Hyunjin can see from how Heejin forcibly slows her breathing that she’s trying her hardest to work up a smile.

_  
“The world hasn’t forgotten you either. They put up a banner you know, everywhere, and you guys were on the news for months. You look really good in your picture – you had the earrings I gave you on, the sun and moon one. You even have a Wikipedia page now, _ ” Heejin cracks a smile, taking a moment to clear her throat as she pinches her ear, playing with her own matching earrings. (Hyunjin’s hands also finger at her piercings – she had never worn anything else besides the earrings Heejin had gifted her before the trip.)  _ “They have you guys listed as heroes, but I’m thinking of editing it and putting the title of world’s biggest idiot down for you instead.” _

  
Hyunjin giggles, though the sound is feeble. She taps at the screen, as though her smile could be transmitted back to Earth if she knocked hard enough.

_  
“I bet you miss bread more than me.” _

  
“You’re right.”

_  
“I’m pretty sure you said “correct” or something like that, asshole. I thought about eating a loaf in front of the camera, but it’s not fun teasing you when you can’t argue back.” _

  
Hyunjin smiles softly at the screen, wanting nothing more than to caress Heejin’s cheeks.

_  
“I quit music too, you know. Not fully, but I stopped trying to be a singer. It’s too scary. I didn’t realize how scary it was – I think I finally understand why you threw yourself into space the way you did, but I’m not fearless enough to want that, the insecurity of working towards something that you don’t know can ever be finished or perfected. I think I gave up because I wanted something different, you know? To dream is to give everything up, and I… I can’t do that. I’m not bitter that you could do it though – I just wish…” _

  
Heejin’s voice trails off. Hyunjin pokes at the computer, waiting for the audio to return. The screen crackles to life once more – Hyunjin rewinds, watching all the curves of Heejin’s beautiful face untwist into a small smile only to fall once more as she hits play.

_  
“I miss you, Hyunjin. I miss you a lot.” _ Heejin hugs her knees to her chest. Her collarbones peep through the top of her shirt – has she been eating properly? She looks much thinner than before. Heejin always was bad at taking care of herself.  _ “I miss you so damn much.” _

  
Hyunjin wraps her arms around herself, suppressing the sobs that claw their way up her neck. She exhales, feeling every twitch of her muscle in an effort not to cry. Her lips are pressed together tight, nostrils flaring. 

  
It’s hard to breathe.

  
“I miss you too.”

  
Her voice thins.

_  
“I have to go now. I wish you could send a message back – I… I miss seeing your face. I miss waking up next to you, I miss kissing you. I miss you a lot.” _

  
Heejin breaks down on camera. Hyunjin isn’t sure what hurts more, watching Heejin crumble or being unable to wipe the tears for her.

_  
“I love you, Hyunjin. Goodbye.” _

  
The screen blackens.

  
Hyunjin flattens her hand, placing her open palm against the computer; warmth radiates, the prickles of static mimicking what she could recall of human contact. If she closed her eyes, she might, just might be able to pretend the little wisps of air that breezes through the space of her fingers as Heejin mumbling in the dark – that the electricity that hisses against her as airy laughter.

  
It ends all too soon.

  
She falls forward, forehead hitting the steel floor, arms grabbing her shoulders as her knees press tightly into her chest.

  
The lone cries of her weeping echo the empty halls.

  
\--

  
Hyunjin turns twenty-eight the day she settles into Rocket 26.

  
She forgets, though.

  
Time is relative after all.

  
She goes through the verbal chain of commands as she was trained to do. (There’s no one to answer her on the other side, but she does them anyways, just in case.)

  
The helmet sits securely, her suit hugging her body to protect her.

  
Rocker 26 roars to life. Its engines blasts, propelling her up and up and up and up until she can no longer see the base down below and only the infinite galaxies that dot space.

  
The propellers disengage as commanded. Another set of engines start.

  
Space is beautiful. The many stars, the countless moons, and all the different planets that paint the expansive nothing with something.

  
\--

**  
Project Number 26**

…

**Author's Note:**

> twt/cc: @chuchuuwuo (come chat)
> 
> i straight up made myself so sad writing this lmfao
> 
> I reread some Ernest Hemingway and thought about it his works and life for a bit, and Pablo Picasso as well (a strange combination, I’m very aware). I guess my concept was to explain how people described as geniuses/doing great things have to sacrifice everything; in this case, I took it to the extreme with Hyunjin stuck in space. The lack of social contact is meant to show how a lot of great creatives are socially isolated or how they choose to cut off connections themselves, and the space is just an extended metaphor for that. It’s easier to leave then it is to come back. 
> 
> The relationship aspect was based slightly off of Free Solo, the documentary.
> 
> I don’t know how much of that got through, but I hope this was still enjoyable in the end.  
> The ending is purposefully open-ended, and there this is one where I don’t think it would be appropriate to write a sequel of any sorts.


End file.
